Guiding Light
by Center of the Galaxy
Summary: "So," Owen tucks his hands in his jeans' pocket and huffs out a shallow breath. "What do you say? Come home with me?" Then with a smirk, he lowers his voice and adds, "For survival's sake and all." And God help her, she laughs." Claire's life may be in shambles and filled with uncertainty, but Owen is the one thing that still makes sense. *post-movie, slow build Claire/Owen*
1. Beginnings

_**Author's Note:**_ _I told myself that I wasn't going to write something for this movie, but Owen and Claire are just too cute! My muse demanded that I write something for them so here we go. Spoilers, obviously, for the whole movie. Enjoy!_

* * *

" _Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."_

― _Lao Tzu_

* * *

This shouldn't be bothering her anymore.

Claire is an expert at controlling her emotions. She's adept at pushing her feelings so far down that she can handle any situation, big or small. Growing up, her sister had been the one to embrace her emotions and Claire, as the older sister, had to learn things the hard way. When you wore your emotions on your sleeve after all, you were bound to get hurt.

It shouldn't have surprised her really. The day that she learned that, she had shed her naiveté and learned how the real world worked. She'd been hurt—badly. As she picked up the pieces of her shattered heart and wiped away her tears, she swore that day that she would never again make herself that vulnerable to anyone again.

Thus, the calm and collected, ever cool Claire was born.

And in the course of a day, she died.

Now, Claire doesn't know who the hell she is.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want to come back with us?" Karen asks, placing a warm hand on her shoulder.

Zach and Gray are busy talking with their father, suitcases in hand. They have to board another flight to get home, back to their peaceful, what looks like newly restored family life.

"Claire?" Karen tries again, voice a bit louder and tinged with worry.

"I'm okay," Claire plasters a smile on her lips and pulls her sister in for a hug. "Really. You all need some time back together after all of this . . ." Chaos. Destruction. Plethora of near death experiences. "Stuff." Yep, that's the word she chooses instead. One that totally makes sense and conveys all the trauma they went through.

"Right." Her younger sister raises her eyebrows and crosses her arms across her chest. "But if you change your mind—"

"I know where to find you." She beams and then gently guides her sister towards her family. "Now, get going or you'll miss your flight."

Karen embraces her once more, eyes suspiciously close to shedding tears.

"I love you, Claire." Her sister whispers fiercely, voice low and thick with emotion.

"I love you too." She replies softly, forcing herself to break off the hug. "Go on now. I'll call you when I land."

"You better!" Karen exclaims as she and her family scampers towards the boarding gate.

Claire watches until they're nothing more than a speck in the line and then once they round the bend and are gone. Only then, does she let her grin fade. Her shoulders slump and she runs a hand through her hair.

She doesn't have anywhere to go.

Isla Nublar was her home and Jurassic World had been her life. She'd spent the last few years working, trying to make the park the best place it could be, trying to fulfill the wishes of her crazy boss, trying to increase revenues, trying to be like Wonder Woman, able to do anything at anytime. Her luxury apartment, all her belongings—they were back on that island. She'd probably never be able to go back there again.

Her life as she knows it, is over.

She probably should've told Karen that and gone with her sibling back to her home. But after all the stress that Karen had been under, Claire hadn't wanted to cause her little sister to worry once more. She hadn't wanted to be a burden to anyone, let alone her sister who was surely going to spend this time rebuilding her own family. Claire couldn't ruin this chance for them.

So, here she is, alone in the airport, with nowhere to go.

Around her, people hustle towards their boarding gates. Announcements are made overhead, but they're hard to hear over the din of the chatter and the constant jet engine roars.

She's really on her own here, it occurs to her with a sudden pang of finality.

"Hey."

She nearly crashes into Owen, who has seemingly materialized behind her.

The former velociraptor trainer easily grabs her, steadying her with his quick reflexes. His eyes scan her, almost instinctively, checking for any injuries. Seeing that she's fine, he releases her and shoots her a lazy grin.

"Hi." She murmurs.

She's not sure what her relationship with Owen is right now. They'd been on one official date months ago and then yesterday, they kissed and managed to survive successive near death experiences. Claire isn't even sure if she likes Owen really. Sure, he's easy on the eyes and he's a great kisser, but other than that, she doesn't even really know him. What was his life back before Jurassic World? She'd read in his file that he'd been in the Navy, but she'd never once thought to ask him where he served or what kind of missions he'd been on.

And his opinion of her? It must be bad. Her behavior and actions hadn't been the best ones yesterday. But now that she's trying to figure out who she is, she doesn't have a clue of how to act. The Claire of the past is whispering warnings about how love didn't really last, how the heart can be broken so easily. She wants to wall off her feelings once more, to be numb and able to survive.

But his warm hand in hers feels right and she can't deny that fact.

"You okay?" He's smirking now, his body language relaxed and oozing confidence. "You seem like a lost little lamb."

"A lamb?" She echoes, chuckling softly. "No, I'm just . . ." She gestures to the airport. "Isla Nublar was my home, for lack of a better word. And now that it's gone, I don't know—" It feels like her heart is racing, blood pounding in her ears.

"Easy."

"I'm fine." She tells him.

"No," He interjects calmly. "You're not." He glances around at the crowded airport terminal and shakes his head. "What happened yesterday—what you and I went through—"

"Owen, I can take care of myself." She feels compelled to interject because she's tired of feeling useless, of being unable to control her own actions. She's faced down a T-Rex and should've, by all accounts, died yesterday. Yet, here she is—alive and in control.

"I know you can, Claire." His voice takes on an unnaturally quiet and soft tone. The thumb of his hand holding hers begins to rub comforting circles on the front of her hand. "I mean, yesterday I saw you run from a freaking T-Rex in heels of all things."

She stifles a laugh, surprised at her own reaction.

"I can't believe I did that." She murmurs, shaking her head in disbelief. "I mean, those heels could've been the death of me."

Owen winks at her, "Yeah, well, you caught a lucky break."

"I suppose so."

There's silence for a few moments.

"Look," Owen runs a hand through his hair and she can see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to formulate whatever he's thinking about into a coherent sentence. "If you want, you could come with me."

She blinks a few times.

"Go . . . with you?" She echoes.

"I mean, my apartment isn't much, but it has two bedrooms and my family will probably drop by, but they're pretty nice, you know, as far as family goes."

She hesitates.

She doesn't know Owen enough to really trust him. She doesn't want to pin all her hopes on him and then watch them crash and burn to the ground. She's been through that once before and she can't do that again. Sure, she's attracted to him—who wouldn't be with that roguish smile and well built physique?—but she couldn't allow that attraction to cloud her judgment.

"So," He tucks his hands in his jeans pocket and huffs out a shallow breath. "What do you say?" Then with a smirk, he lowers his voice and adds, "For survival's sake and all."

And God help her, she laughs.

He has that effect on her—easily disarming her and breaking down her walls like it's nothing.

"Well, it's not like I have anywhere else to go." She shrugs and then smiling, quickly interjects, "Thank you. It's very kind of you."

"It's settled then." He grins, picking up her bag. "Let's get you a ticket then."

Claire isn't sure where this will lead.

Owen might break her heart. He might turn out to be the guy that she fears he will be—foolhardy, impulsive, and easily angered. She might regret this decision down the road.

Or she might not.

Owen could be exactly the break from reality she needs. He might be her safety net as she tries to navigate these next few complicated weeks. Without her job, what is she really?

Today, she thinks that she might be on the track to figuring that out.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ _This story will be about Owen/Claire bonding as well as me filling in some gaps in their backstory. And of course, down the road, more Owen/Claire romance. I hope you'll stick with me! Please review if you have a moment._


	2. Fears

_**Author's Note:**_ _Wow, I'm blown away by the amazing response to this story! I'm glad you guys enjoyed the first chapter so much. I hope you enjoy the second one just as much! Also, I can't remember for the life of me if we ever saw Owen flying during the movie, so if we did, let's pretend that didn't happen. Enjoy!_

* * *

" _There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment."_

― _Sarah Dessen_

* * *

Much to her surprise, it turns out that Owen Grady is terrified of flying.

She notices it right as they step on the plane. His confident demeanor shifts into something more unsettled as his eyes dart to the floor and he moves closer to her, almost instinctively. Once they're in their seats, he clutches the armrest with such ferocity that his knuckles turn white. He keeps his gaze locked straight ahead; eyes wide open and colored with the telltale marks of fear.

"Hey," Claire lowers her voice, trying to summon that soothing tone that her sister is famous for. "Are you afraid to fly?"

"No." He manages to bark out, but his grip on the armrest doesn't lessen.

"Really?" She presses with a small smirk pulling up her lips. Really, she shouldn't tease him like this, but she can't help it. Owen has such a devil-may-care attitude. He's faced down tons of hungry dinosaurs and lived to tell the tale and yet this tiny, perfectly safe airplane is what freaks him out.

Now, that's priceless.

"I can tell you're enjoying this." He murmurs, narrowing his gaze and she chuckles softly.

"Just a little bit." She admits softly.

"Yeah, yeah, ha ha." He mutters darkly, rolling his eyes. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, he faces her, "Look, I'm not afraid. I'm just . . ." He struggles to come up with a suitable substitute. Then, snapping his fingers, he turns to her, "I'm just concerned."

"Concerned, right." She echoes, the smirk growing wider by the second.

"Airplanes are dangerous!" He snaps, voice rising and this time, she can't hold back the laughter. "Hey! I mean it, Claire! Airplanes can break down at any moment—"

"Says the man who used to be the Alpha of velociraptor pack!" She retorts in between her bouts of laughter.

"Yeah, well," He whispers softly. "That was different."

The laughter leaves her immediately as she sees his ducked head and folded arms. She grimaces, chiding herself. Of course he would miss his pack! Owen had spent how many years with them? Two, at least and here she was, making fun of him.

"Owen, I'm sorry." She apologizes quickly, hesitating before placing a hand on his shoulder. "I didn't—"

"It's fine," He dismisses her concern with nonchalance. "Don't worry about it."

She wants to say something more but before she knows it, the plane is taking off and Owen is back to white knuckling the armrest.

* * *

Owen is a California boy.

They land at LAX close to four in the afternoon and as she waits for their baggage, he is having a currently impassioned debate with someone on the other end of his cellphone. She's trying not to eavesdrop—really, what he is "discussing" is none of her business—but it's hard when Owen is frowning and pleading in a soft voice just a few feet away from her.

"Listen, I can't." He tells the person—ex-girlfriend maybe? No, he wouldn't have kissed her then, right?—and run his hand through his hair yet again, frazzled.

"Owen?" She calls as she reaches for their bags, easily pulling theirs off the spinning carousel.

"Look, I have Claire with me—" He sighs raggedly. "Yes, that Claire!" He glances at her and then turns away, quickly saying, "Fine. But just tonight, okay?" He sighs once more, drained. "I love you too, Mom."

Claire's eyes widen ever so slightly.

"Bye." He places the phone back in his pocket and reaches for their bags.

"Your mother was on the phone?" She questions quietly. "She's seems like a persistent women."

Owen chuckles loudly before proudly adding, "Yeah, she's where I get my stubbornness from." Then, biting his lower lip a bit, he leans towards her a bit, close enough that she wonders if he's going to close the small gap and kiss her.

"Owen?" She whispers, unsure if she's ready for this, ready to be with him or if she even wants to be with him.

"My mother has insisted you come to family dinner."

"She . . . has?" Truth be told, that's not what she expected him to tell her, but with the sudden relief—he isn't going to kiss her so she still has time to think things through—comes a new set of fears.

"Claire, you don't have to come." Owen tells her. "I can drop you off at the apartment and I'll be gone for like two hours, tops—"

"No." Claire summons up a smile, trying to think of only pleasant thoughts. She's faced down dinosaurs intent on eating her. She's convinced the toughest investors in the world to give her money to run the park. She can handle one dinner with the mother of her sort-of boyfriend. "I would love to go."

Owen jerks back, as if he's unsure if he's heard her correctly and then asks, "You're sure?"

"Of course." She keeps the smile plastered on her face. "I just need to freshen up."

"My apartment isn't too far." He replies quietly.

"Okay then." Claire grins. "Let's do this then."

She quickly moves for the exit, leaving a dazed Owen to follow her.

* * *

Owen's apartment is spacious and barely furnished.

"I got the job at Jurassic World a few weeks before I finished moving in," He explains when he notices her concerned expression at lack of really anything in the apartment aside from a bed in each bedroom and a few kitchen appliances. "And I guess I just never got around to finishing it."

"I see." She replies lightly. Then, grabbing her bag, she moves towards the nearest bedroom. "I'll just be a few minutes."

"Take your time," Owen insists with a lazy grin. "Really, my mom will be willing to wait to meet you."

Against her will, Claire's cheeks flush and ducking her head, she hightails it to the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She opens her suitcase and grimaces as she takes in the meager amount she was able to bring—one cocktail dress, some jeans and t-shirts, and one of her suits. She couldn't wear the suit—she'd be way too stiff for sure. Wearing the jeans and t-shirt would be way too casual.

"Cocktail dress it is." She whispers, pulling out the silky white dress.

She dresses quickly, putting on the one-strapped white dress. She adjusts the jeweled pendant on her left side where all the material gathers and hopes she looks somewhat pretty. She doesn't have a mirror to check and she might be way overdressed—perhaps jeans and a t-shirt were a better fit?—but she couldn't keep them waiting. Slipping on a pair of high heels, she forces herself to stick to this outfit. Taking a deep breath in, she opens the door.

Owen is lying on the floor, eyes shut, brow furrowed. The flight had been long and arduous for him and she wonders if exhaustion has caught up to him.

"Owen?" She calls softly and he's immediately up. She jumps back, startled and he looks like he's about to say something when he glances at her outfit.

He stands there, speechless for what feels like an eternity.

"It's too much, isn't it?" She asks, worried. "I knew it. I'll go change—" She turns to leave when his warm hand catches her wrist and spins her around and almost into his arms.

"Claire." His voice is so unnaturally soft that it takes her by surprise. It's a tone that she's never expected from someone as boisterous and loud as Owen.

"What?" She breathes.

"You look beautiful."

And that's the moment he kisses her, sweet and slow. She freezes, unsure of what to do, but eventually finds herself responding, until he pulls away.

"Owen?" Her breath is ragged and she can still feel the tingle of his lips on hers.

"We better go."

He doesn't say anything as he moves towards the front door.

Claire, for her part, isn't sure what just happened. Owen kissed her and then broke it off? So, did that meant he liked her or not?

"Why not just pass him a note?" She mutters to herself. "Do you like me? Check yes or no."

But the truth is, she doesn't know if she "likes" Owen either. They barely know each other. The chemistry is there, yes, but she's had a relationship based on chemistry alone before and it backfired on her badly.

"Never again." She vows softly.

There's no point in figuring this all out right now. She has more pressing matters to attend to, mainly meeting Owen's mom.

She can handle this, no sweat.

And with that, she leaves the apartment.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ _Next chapter, meeting Owen's family. Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!_


	3. Trust

_**Author's Note:**_ _I spent a long time thinking about Owen's family and what they would be like. I hope you'll enjoy the end result. Thanks again for all your continued support!_

* * *

" _Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet."_

― _Plato_

* * *

She's completely overdressed.

Owen's childhood home is in the middle of a farming community, a few hours away from the city. From the horses grazing the in the field next to the house, to the wooden sign announcing that Owen's family lived here—everything screams rustic and homey and here she is, in a sparkly cocktail dress.

She's a fool.

As she waits on the porch of Owen's house, she can't help but feel horribly out of place. Fiddling with the edge of her dress, she suppresses a sigh and glances at the cream colored door.

"Claire?" Owen glances at her, his lips tilting upwards in a bemused smile. "Nervous?" He loves this—seeing her squirm—and she wonders if this is revenge for her teasing him on the airplane.

She wants to deny that she is, but before she can manage to say anything, Owen has reached for her hand. She stiffens at the touch as his warm hand grips hers, offering her some strength to ground her.

"Owen, I—" Her voice fades as his gaze locks onto hers.

"Claire, you'll be fine." He assures softly. "I—"

The door bursts open and Claire jerks back, startled.

"Owen!"

A matronly woman dressed in jeans and a flowing blue floral top embraces Owen, a dazzling grin alight on her peach lips. Her auburn hair is piled messily into a bun and as she releases Owen, her sea green eyes slide over to Claire. They widen ever so slightly as they take in her appearance and Claire ducks her head, embarrassed.

"And you must be Claire." The woman's voice is warm and gentle, like a wave hitting the shore and Claire finds herself lifting her head.

"Hi." She murmurs, waving her hand slightly. She then offers her hand to shake, but the woman shakes her head and then laughs, full and hearty.

"Oh, sweetheart, c'mere!" Claire is engulfed in a hug and the younger woman gasps, taken aback by the unexpected contact. "Oh, you are so gorgeous! Just like what Owen told me—"

"Mom!" Owen interjects sharply and Claire finds a grin of her own on her lips. "Would you let go of her? You're crushing her."

"Oh!" Owen's mom exclaims, releasing her immediately. "Sorry, dear." She places a warm hand on Claire's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, thank you." Claire replies, regaining her composure. She fixes her dress, and then glances at Owen, waiting to take a cue from him about what to do next.

"Well, come on inside!" Owen's mom winks at her, smiling so warmly and openly. Claire instantly feels at ease. Perhaps, maybe just perhaps, this night might work out after all.

And together, they all go inside.

* * *

Claire can't but feel like she's on display.

She's seated at the wooden table, plates piled high with various comfort foods and the room is bursting with chatter and raucous laughter. Still, through it all, she feels eyes boring onto her. Owen is not a single child and his older brother, his sister-in-law and his younger sister are all present at the dinner table. The family all shares Owen's beautiful emerald eyes, but his older brother, Christopher has chestnut hair and is slightly shorter and less muscular than Owen. Christopher's wife, Ava, has her crimson hair piled high in a bun and her own sea blue eyes are sparkling as she laughs. Owen's teen sister, Sarah, is clearly a fan of peach lipstick and white sparkly eye shadow, though it doesn't overwhelm her natural beauty. Her hair is bright red though, almost crimson. While Claire doubts that it's natural, it does look interesting.

And then, there's Owen. Owen, who seems so relaxed here, so at ease, as he leans back in the dining room chair and laughs the loudest out of all his siblings. She's never seen him like this—so alive, so passionate. Not even when he was working with his beloved dinosaurs was he so at peace. When he glances at her, Claire feels like she's the only on in the room, as if everyone else melts away.

"So," Sarah finally speaks up, taking a small bite of mashed potatoes. "Are you two together?"

She coughs on her water and he splutters.

"What?" She echoes softly, trying to catch her breath.

"Sarah, really—" Owen chides, stealing at glance at her.

"What?" Sarah raises her shoulders somewhat and sighs. "I mean, Owen's only been pining for her—"

"Sarah, come help me get dessert!" Owen's mother snaps, giving her daughter a meaningful glance.

"But Mama—" Sarah protests, but Owen's mother is having none of it.

"Come along, Sarah."

Sighing dramatically, Sarah rises from her chair and disappears into the kitchen with her mother.

"So, Claire," Ava grins widely, though it reminds Claire of the Cheshire Cat. "I'm surprised that Owen is letting you stay with him. He's usually so protective of that apartment of his." She chuckles. "I mean, sorry, what do you call it, Owen? Your man cave—?"

"Owen has been very kind." Claire interjects with a soft smile.

"Oh, I'm sure." Christopher laughs, voice boisterous. He takes a swig of his beer and Owen ducks his head sheepishly.

"Would you quit it, Chris?" Owen hisses, much like a petulant child and Claire can't help but chuckle a little.

"How long do you think you'll be in town?" Ava questions.

"I'm not really sure." Claire confesses, as she pushes her steak around on her plate. "After everything that happened, I haven't really given it much thought."

"I see." Ava nods her head.

"Here we are!" Owen's mom exclaims, bringing a warm chocolate cake while Sarah brings in homemade vanilla ice cream. As she serves everyone, she grins when she serves Claire. "So? What are we talking about?"

"Nothing much." Owen mutters, running a hand through his hair.

Claire just chuckles.

* * *

"I'm sorry. Again." Owen winces as the two of them come into the living room of his apartment.

"No. It was actually kind of sweet." Claire replies, placing the huge portion of food Owen's mom had insisted that she take with them.

"Right. The third degree, totally fun." He chuckles and she can't help smiling in return.

"Your family cares for you." Claire runs her hand through her hair, tugging out some knots. "That's what matters."

"They care for you too." Owen practically whispers and her eyes widen somewhat. "I mean, because they think that we are—"

"A couple." She completes.

"Right." He finishes. "And we're . . ." His voice fades out.

"Not." She supplies.

"Right. Not."

An awkward silence fills the every crevice of the room.

"Well, it's late and I'm—" She starts to turn to go to her room.

"Hey, Claire—" He grabs her hand and then drops it. "Sorry. I didn't mean—" He laughs somewhat nervously. "Ah, screw it."

And the next she knows, he's kissing her again, passionate and strong. She can feel the blood pounding through her ears and she finds herself responding to his touch. She could give in to this, to him, to being with him, but—

Her heart broke once before and it nearly killed her.

She breaks off the kiss, gasping.

"Owen," Her voice is ragged. "We can't."

He nods his head.

"Right. Of course. Stupid." He chuckles once more, but doesn't back away. "Good night."

"Good night."

She retreats to her room, closing the door behind her and forces herself to breathe.

What on Earth has she gotten herself into?

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ _Next chapter, Owen and Claire go out on a date! Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!_


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